


Many are the stars I see

by Enaira



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, Stargazing, a tiny bit of angst?, also spring stuff, silvergifting, soft silvergifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enaira/pseuds/Enaira
Summary: “… but in my eye no star like thee.”On New Year’s Eve, Celebrimbor basks in starlight. Annatar joins him.
Relationships: Annatar/Celebrimbor | Telperinquar, Celebrimbor | Telperinquar/Sauron | Mairon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Many are the stars I see

“This is where you have been hiding,” Annatar said as he spotted Celebrimbor lying on the balcony’s couch, his long hair a shawl of ink around his pale face.

On this peculiar night, nothing seemed to obey the same rules as usual. Dark were Celebrimbor’s apartments, where a dying fire was consuming its last embers; and almost as bright as the day was the cloudless night outside, illuminated by the Kindler’s finest mantle. Everywhere in the city, lanterns and torches had been blown out to let the stars shine, and they were shining so well that even a Secondbord would have been able to notice the lord of Eregion – after a moment of adjustment for their undeveloped eyesight. Of course, Annatar was no Secondborn, and his eyes adjusted immediately to the stark contrast.

“I am not hiding,” Celebrimbor answered peacefully. “I strategically retreated to enjoy the best part of the New Year’s Eve.”

He gestured at the sky.

“And you seemed to be completely at ease back there. I did not want to spoil your fun.”

Annatar indeed had been immersed in a metaphysic argument with one of the Mírdain for the past two hours. He was about to put the last nail into the coffin when he had noticed that Celebrimbor had disappeared. He had left almost immediately.

To be frank, it was good to escape the clammy smokes and vapours of the party. Outside, the night still smelled like cold earth and cone pines, but timid fragrances of green and flowers were now recognizable in the chilly air.

“Why did you leave?” Celebrimbor asked.

“Why, indeed? It is not as mysterious as you make it sound. As often, the answer is the most obvious one.”

“Which is?”

“I want your company more than I want their.”

Celebrimbor shook his head, eyes closed, trying to conceal his obvious amused expression. Annatar could not comprehend what was so funny.

“Come then,” the Elf invited by patting the edge of the couch. He was too tall to fit entirely, and his feet were resting on the armrest, crossed. When Annatar came to stand beside him, he moved to let him sit. They stood together in a companionably silence for a while: Celebrimbor watching the opaline myriad above, comfortable under a thick wool blanket, and Annatar watching him, indifferent to the brisk air.

“We will probably never love them as much as our Moriquendi cousins, but still they stay a comforting vision,” Celebrimbor spoke at least. “For despite his dreadest deeds, never Morgoth could taint this token of blessing.”

As Annatar said nothing in return, and was still watching him, Celebrimbor turned his head to glance at him and lifted his hand to run it gently through the golden locks. His smile turned hesitant, the corners of it a bit wistful. Tonight, the discreet, subtle grey of his eyes seemed enhanced by the pale light from above; but under it, and coming from far away, the memory of an older and brighter one irradiated more deeply his serious gaze.

“Do you miss it?” Celebrimbor asked. “The Holy Lights?”

 _Do you miss home, as I do sometimes?_ Annatar translated. He took the time to consider his answer, and to remember: and in order to do so he moved to lie and settle against Celebrimbor, who happily gave him room under the blanket and closed one arm around him. Warmth and comfort enveloped him instantly. He did not dwell on it. The nights were still frosty: it was only the dawn of a new spring, after all.

He could not refer to the Trees: he did not know of the splendour of Telperion and Laurelin. As for the Lamps… It had been such a long time ago, and Annatar had barely seen them. In those times, the darkness inside him kept growing, despite his best efforts, and he had thrown himself into work, hoping to keep it at bay. Should Aulë have needed assistance while working on them – and he had not –, Annatar was not even sure he would have chosen him to help. Tainted he had been already, flawed from the very beginning, and not a good smith enough: he had always lacked of _inspiration_. A good pupil, yes. Studious, fastidious, productive, yes. But these were not the qualities that Aulë had required, and favoured. At that time, they all had wanted _a_ _vision_ , and enthusiastic creativity.

So Illuin and Ormal had been made without him, and then Spring had been upon them, so joyful and full of promises that he had almost believed he could be satisfied with it. How could he have not? He still had good memories of his time in Almaren.

But in truth, he did not miss the Lamps. The delicate artefacts had been Aulë’s masterpiece, but the Light in them had been Varda’s, and Annatar had always been indifferent to it, more fascinated by the ardent fury of Arda’s insides – and how to exploit it. Varda’s cold and ethereal light was the same as the Silmarils, and he hated those. Illuin had shone so blindingly harsh that no shadows could even be seen. How it had ended!

Should he lie? Elves were so _fond_ of the Starkindler’s gifts. He looked for an answer into tranquil pools of liquid grey, and found only calm for himself.

“No,” he then confessed. “I barely saw them. Most of the times, I was working by Aulë’s fires.”

Celebrimbor’s frail smile vanished, and he let out a quiet laugh. “Of course.”

“What about you, Telperinquar? When you watch the stars, do you recognize the light of Telperion, and do you long for it?”

He felt the slow but strong rise and fall of Celebrimbor’s chest under his cheek, as a meditative sigh filled and left him.

“Not really. I was very young then. I remember it like I remember…” He paused, and the glow in his eyes receded, giving way to a flash of pain as sharp as the edge of a knife. The Elf’s jaw constricted. Almost without thinking, Annatar moved his hand to sooth it away.

“… like I would remember a lullaby from childhood”, Celebrimbor eventually managed after a moment, his voice careful but steady. “A soothing memory, but not a fundamental one. Half of this nostalgia comes from a childhood surrounded by the regrets of exiles that have made their own choices, in their times. But I grew up mostly in Middle-Earth. I feel closer to the Sindar than to my own people, now, and Eregion is my home. One could almost say I am a child of the Sun!”

He was trying to sound playful, but Annatar could feel the concealed lie beneath those words, the old ache hidden behind them: for like the rest of his kind, Celebrimbor had known the blessed lands bathing in their dual lights, and could not forget – neither those halcyon days, nor the pain of parting.

All Eldar knew melancholy so intimately; but for Celebrimbor, who had the future of Middle-Earth at heart and loved those lands dearly, it was like being haunted not by a shadow, but by the most blinding ghost. Once again, Annatar fiercely resented the cold starlight, and its cruel hold on Celebrimbor’s heart.

He had not left the party to spoil the Elf’s good moods, so he kissed him. Celebrimbor made a pleased sound, and soon Annatar felt him relaxing again. He had left his hand on his jaw, and they kissed quietly for a while, without urgency, the touch of their lips soft and warm.

“Did you watch enough?” Annatar finally asked when they parted, a little breathless, which was absurd.

Again, Celebrimbor made this curious, amused face. _Fond_?

“Surely you must know by now that watching the first stars of the year is the main entertainment of the eve?”

Annatar clicked his tongue. “You Elves are worse than magpies. Always in adoration of shiny things, should they be stars or jewels. They are not that interesting.”

“I thought you will be the first to find them intriguing. Have you ever thought about how they could be so far away, yet shine so well?”

He had not. He did not care. Though, the question startled him, and he began to wonder, and… _no_.

“Elusive orbs of divine light, or exceptional spheres of flame?” Celebrimbor mused in that distant voice of his that signified he was thinking, his caress on Annatar’s hair slowing. “I did not think all the way through this, not yet…”

For an excruciating second, Annatar’s all being was split between the urge of giving in the process of _thinking_ and following Celebrimbor’s nimble mind where it went, and his rightful need for attention. The conflict was unexpectedly solved by a sudden and overwhelming tightness in his chest – a new sensation, but not an unpleasant one.

“I told you, Telperinquar,” he said, and he traced with his fingertips the arch of a cheekbone with the hint of a smile. “I do not care for the stars. I have seen brighter and far more stimulating.”

“Of course,” Celebrimbor agreed with his most amiable voice, but Annatar could see his eyes sparkling. “What are the pale stars of Varda when you worked in Aulë’s own foundry, at the beginning of the world?”

Annatar ignored the impertinent tone which suggested a petty rivalry. “I was not referring to my work under the Great Smith,” he corrected with a purr, leaning more comfortably on the Elf’s chest. “For I found something even far more radiant to me.”

“Oh? What is that?”

Annatar’s smile sharpened and his gaze turned insistent. Celebrimbor looked back at him, dumbfounded, then frowned. Annatar could almost see the frenetic whirl of his thoughts.

“You can’t be talking about my eyes,” Celebrimbor tried, suspiciously. “That would be very poor poetry.”

Annatar rolled his eyes in an unusual display of facial expression. “No, Tyelpë. I am talking about this brilliant mind of yours.” He poked the Elf’s brow.

The tips of Celebrimbor’s ears began to turn slightly red, and Annatar followed the colour spread with interest before continuing the conversation.

“Also, starlight makes you bluish. It does not suit you.”

Blue was the colour of all forbidden realms: of the two skies, that of day and that of night, and their hard and inescapable glances; of ugly and invading waters, which slowly and inexorably corroded everything; and blue was often the colour of the deads, before they fade away into greens, to another kingdom. Annatar always had preferred warmer lights, and gold always had been more enticing to him than the silver the Eldar held in such high regard… with one exception.

“Could you be a little drunk?” Celebrimbor was trying to regain some composure, but his skilful hand had resumed its caresses along Annatar’s hair. “Usually you aren’t that forthright.”

“Of course not, I can’t get drunk.” _Another lie_. He let his fingers slip from Celebrimbor’s jaw to his chest, then wander. “I’m just very relaxed. It was a nice evening. And I expect it to become even better, when you will have sufficiently quenched your thirst for starlight, contemplation and melancholy.”

Celebrimbor smiled – yes, definitely _fond_ – and caught the wandering hand to bring it to his lips in a gesture of appeasement.

“The night is almost over. Let’s watch dawn together, love, and then we will go to bed and I will take care of you. All right?”

“Mmh. You watch dawn. I watch you,” Annatar said, and he rested contentedly his head on Celebrimbor’s shoulders again.

**Author's Note:**

> _The starry midnight whispers,  
>  As I muse before the fire  
> On the ashes of ambition  
> And the embers of desire,_
> 
> _"Life has no other logic,  
>  And time no other creed,  
> Than: 'I for joy will follow.  
> Where thou for love dost lead!'_
> 
> Bliss Carman, "The Starry Midnight Whispers"
> 
>   
> Note: now with [a beautiful fanart](https://ibrithir-was-here.tumblr.com/post/641222239884394496/many-are-the-stars-i-see-enaira-the) from the wonderful Ibrithir! Thank you! <3


End file.
